Beg Forgiveness
by Danielle18
Summary: As Andromache grieves for her fallen Hector, the man whom she blames for his death begs her forgiveness...


**_Beg Forgiveness_**

His lips were cold against her own, rough and blistered. She pulled away and felt hot tears trickle down her cheeks as she reached for his listless hand, bringing it to her lips and kissing the iciness.

The blood had been washed from his body, with cool water and oils. Still, the scars were there. Vicious wounds were torn into his skin; one long gash streaked the side of his face.

She reached down, gently brushing away a dark curl from his closed eye, and studied his white face… more tears poured as she let out a child-like whimper, and let his hand fall from her grasp as she heard a soft thud come from somewhere in the large hall.

She looked around her, but could not see the stranger in the shadows behind the large marble pillars that surrounded.

She stood from where she kneeled by her husband's body, placed on a large stone tablet, and continued to look in the direction she thought the sound came from.

She was about to open her mouth, when the stranger revealed himself, stepping into the dim light of the burning torches which lined every pillar.

"It is only me"…

She closed her eyes for a moment and gently sighed. "You frightened me…" she murmured in a small voice.

"Forgive me, I meant no harm", Prince Paris took another cautious step into the light, as he waited for Andromache to open her red, swollen eyes.

"If you request solitude…." He began uneasily as silence continued to expand.

She opened her eyes and gave the smallest shake of her head before turning away from him and resuming her position beside Hector.

Paris stood for another moment, watching his brother's widow as she took Hector's hand in her own again, squeezing it, and then with her other hand continued to run her long fingers through his thick, dark hair. She peered into his lifeless face the whole time, as though she was waiting…waiting for his russet eyes to open and acknowledge her.

Paris bowed his head and shifted his weight restlessly. It was as though she thought him still living.

"I always imagined I would grow old with him…" she suddenly spoke, in such a small, fragile voice, Paris was not sure she had uttered a single word, until after a moment, she spoke again; "…I would watch him grow into a fine, mighty King… _King of Troy_"

"He would have made a great…" his voice trembled for a moment and he did not trust himself to continue, he swallowed back sharp tears; "…a great King" he finished.

Andromache smiled to herself as she brushed another loose curl from her husband's brow, "yes" she said, looking closely into his face, and squeezing his hand tight again, "he was touched by greatness…"

She lifted her face now, and looked over her shoulder at Paris, "…but only the great die young" she frowned, and turned away again.

"Andromache…" he could no longer stand here and watch her torment, her sorrow without recognizing it was his selfishness and foolishness that caused it. "Andromache…." He said again, anxiously stepping forward.

She raised a hand, commanding his silence. "Please do not beg my forgiveness…." She began slowly, not daring to look at him, "…for I cannot give it to you in all honesty…."

Paris's eyes wandered to the tiled floor as her words echoed in his heart. His brother, slain because of his foolishness. How could he have even considered her forgiveness?

"Hector…." Andromache turned away from her husband's cold, white face as she spoke again, "…Hector would have scolded me for laying such blame on you…you and you're reckless heart…" she turned to him now, refusing to continue until his eyes met hers.

"But I am now a widow….my son is fatherless…and my home is vulnerable without its protector…." She gulped back tears, "dear Paris…" slowly, she stood again. Her black robes gently swaying as she slowly walked towards him, tears now freely and silently falling from her eyes. She stopped to stand in front of him, and he quickly bowed his head, afraid of what her eyes would do to him if he met their suffering gaze.

"Dear Paris…" she whispered again, gently reaching out and cupping his head in her hands, forcing him to look at her; "May the Gods forgive me for my hatred…." Her voice was soft, but her words were stinging. "…I cannot help but wish that it was you who now lay dead in this very tomb… for it was you that brought blood to Troy's shores….and it was you who took my love from me"

A small moan escaped Paris's lips as his eyes welled and a single tear was released.

Her words were a dagger through his heart….a sword cut through his already wounded conscience….the truth of those words was a pain Paris had never experienced in all his life.

Andromache's eyes fluttered closed as she leaned in and lay a kiss on Paris's forehead, "forgive me Hector" she whispered under her breath as her hands fell by her sides and she moved away from Paris, quickening her step as she left the tomb, more tears pouring….

**_Authors Note:_**

_This is my second Troy fic. I wrote this one because I really wanted Andromache to be mad at someone and to express that anger. Paris was my least-favorite character, and it really annoyed me that he wasnt touched by Karma._

_Love it or hate it, please review. I know it's short. I did actually have an idea to continue with this story, but i will see how the reviews go._


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